Now, men of death, do your worst. I can
suffer and be still.
"'And come he slow, or come he fast,
It is but death who comes at last.'"
The old Abbot raised his sightless eyes to heaven and said:
"'Sister, let thy sorrows cease;
Sinful brother, part in peace!'"
Up from the direful place of doom, to the light of day and to the fresh
air, passed those who had held this awful trial. Shrieks and groans
followed the winding steps. The peasant who heard the unearthly cries
bowed his head, the hermit told his beads, the brother crossed himself,
even the stag on Cheviot hills bounded to his feet, listened and then
trembling lay down to hide among the mountain ferns.
[Illustration: THE STUDY, ABBOTSFORD.]
CHAPTER III.
We now return to Lord Marmion, who, led by the Palmer, was hastening on
to Holyrood. When the heights of Lammermoor were reached, noon had long
passed, and at early nightfall, old Gifford's towers lay before them.
Here they had expected hospitality, but the lord of the Castle had gone
to Scotland's camp, where were gathered the noblest and bravest of her
sons. No friendly summons called them to the hall, for in her lord's
absence, the lady refused admittance alike to friend and foe.
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